The Gryffindor common room is unusually still, the usual chatter and laughter of the day replaced by a serene quiet at night. Only the faint crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace breaks the silence, casting flickering shadows on the scarlet and gold walls. Adam descends quietly from his dormitory, careful not to wake his roommates. As his feet touch the carpeted floor, he spots Hermione sitting near the fire, her back straight and her gaze fixed on a piece of parchment in her lap.
“You’re early,” Adam says softly, noticing the stack of books beside her and the quill she twirls absently in her fingers.
Hermione looks up, giving a faint smile. “So are you,” she replies.
Adam studies her closely as she gathers her things. “You ready?” he asks, his tone gentle but concerned.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answers, standing and slipping her parchment into one of the books.
The two of them make their way to the Room of Requirement under an illusion and concealment spell, their footsteps muffled against the thick stone floors. The castle is eerily quiet at this hour, the only sound the occasional creak of the ancient walls. Upon reaching the seventh floor, Adam paces in front of the blank stretch of wall, concentrating on their need. Within moments, the door to the Room of Requirement appears, and they step inside.
“Alright,” Adam says, rolling up his sleeves as he approaches the table. “Let’s get started.”
Hermione sits down, her movements a touch slower than usual. Adam notices her rubbing her temples as she opens a heavy book, her quill poised but unmoving. They work quietly for a while, the scratch of quills and the soft rustle of parchment the only sounds in the room. Adam practices a series of intricate wand movements against a dummy, sending a cascade of sparks flying.
He glances over at Hermione, who hasn’t written a single word in the past few minutes. Her brow is furrowed, her gaze distant. Lowering his wand, Adam walks over to her.
“You okay?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. “You don’t look well.”
Hermione hesitates, her fingers tightening around the quill. “It’s just... everything,” she admits finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Five electives, all the coursework, keeping up with the homework for classes that overlap... It’s all starting to catch up to me.”
Adam leans against the table, crossing his arms. “You’re doing so much, Hermione. Maybe too much. No one expects you to handle this much pressure. You could drop a class or two—it wouldn’t make you any less brilliant.”
Hermione shakes her head slightly, her expression tight. “I can manage,” she says firmly, though the exhaustion in her eyes betrays her words.
Adam doesn’t push further, knowing how fiercely Hermione guards her independence and pride. Instead, he offers her a small smile. “Alright. But if you ever need help, you know I’m here, right?”
Hermione looks up at him, her resolve softening for a moment. “Thanks, Adam,” she says quietly before turning back to her notes.
The rest of their study session passes in relative silence, the occasional murmur of spells and the rustle of pages the only sounds. When the clock in the room chimes softly to mark the late hour, they decide to call it a night.
Walking back to their respective dormitories, Adam can’t help but glance at Hermione, her shoulders slightly hunched and her steps slower than usual. He makes a mental note to keep an eye on her for now.
“Goodnight, Hermione,” Adam says softly as they part ways in the common room.
“Goodnight, Adam,” she replies, her voice tinged with gratitude.
Despite the late-night study session, Adam wakes early, feeling surprisingly refreshed—a subtle but undeniable perk of wizard physiology, he thinks with a small smirk. After dressing and freshening up, he makes his way through the quiet halls of the castle, his destination clear: Dumbledore’s office.
When he reaches the familiar stone gargoyle, Adam gives the password—“Hippity Hop”—and ascends the spiraling staircase. Inside, the office is warm and bathed in the golden light of dawn. Fawkes, Dumbledore’s majestic phoenix, is awake and nibbling delicately on a treat placed on his perch. The soft rustling of feathers fills the room, and Adam can’t help but pause to admire the bird’s vibrant plumage, its colors even more brilliant in the morning light.
The portraits of past headmasters murmur amongst themselves, their painted expressions ranging from curiosity to disinterest. Adam greets them politely, his eyes briefly meeting each of theirs before lingering on Fawkes.
“Dumbledore’s not here,” Dilys Derwent’s portrait announces calmly, her voice carrying a soothing effect to the ears.
“I know,” Adam replies calmly. “I was hoping to ask a few questions about Hogwarts, if any of you would oblige.”
This statement seems to spark the interest of several portraits. A few stop their quiet conversations, their painted faces turning toward Adam with varying degrees of curiosity.
“And what exactly do you wish to know?” asks Phyllida Spore, her tone more accommodating than the others'.
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Adam hesitates briefly, feigning innocence. “Oh, just some of the castle’s more curious features,” he says, letting his gaze wander the room. “I’ve always been fascinated by its unique magic—particularly the Room of Requirement. I recently stumbled upon it in a book and couldn’t help but wonder how something so extraordinary was created.”
Phineas’s painted eyes narrow suspiciously, his expression skeptical. “Ah, the Room of Requirement,” he says slowly, his voice tinged with both disdain and intrigue. “A marvel, yes, but a frustrating one. I attempted to study it both as a student and later as headmaster, but its secrets eluded me.”
Adam tilts his head as though the revelation surprises him. “So even you couldn’t uncover its origins? Fascinating. Do you happen to know what might be required to create something like that?”
His question hangs in the air, the weight of it drawing the attention of nearly every portrait in the room. Some exchange glances, others lean forward as if eager to contribute.
“You’re asking dangerous questions, young man,” mutters Armando Dippet, his expression stern.
Phineas studies Adam closely, his painted brow furrowed in suspicion. “And why, exactly, are you interested in such matters?”
Adam offers a casual smile, masking his true intentions. “It’s just curiosity, I assure you. I’ve always been fascinated by magical architecture and enchantments. The Room of Requirement is unparalleled in its ingenuity, and I wondered if there was any documentation or insights passed down.”
Several portraits soften at his words, clearly impressed by his studious nature. “Curiosity is no crime,” Dilys says, her tone encouraging. “But be cautious. The castle’s magic often guards its secrets for a reason.”
Phineas continues to regard Adam with suspicion, but eventually, he leans back in his frame with a huff. “If even I couldn’t unravel its mysteries, don’t expect to do so easily.”
Adam smirks inwardly, knowing he’s captured their attention. He isn’t expecting direct answers, but their reactions and the snippets of information they let slip will undoubtedly guide him further in his search for the truth.
Phineas replies cautiously, his tone measured and deliberate. “I do, but that knowledge is not for children.”
Adam shrugs, keeping his demeanor nonchalant, though his pulse quickens with anticipation. “I’ve done some reading about it. I just wanted to compare notes, see if my understanding lines up.”
Phineas’s painted brow furrows, his skepticism deepening. “And what, pray tell, do you believe you know about it?”
Adam meets his gaze evenly, listing the requirements with confidence: “Mastery of advanced space magic, a few void stones for spatial manipulation, ancient charm magic involving intricate runes and enchantments, and three of Merlin’s nine forbidden spells.”
The room falls into an uneasy silence. Several portraits exchange astonished glances, their muted whispers hinting at both curiosity and concern.
“You’ve done your reading,” Phineas admits grudgingly, his painted expression betraying a hint of respect. “But knowing the ingredients does not mean you can bake the cake. Among them, the forbidden spells you speak of are no ordinary incantations. Few even know of their existence, and fewer still can wield them without grave consequences.”
Adam leans forward, his voice quiet but firm. “Do you know any of them?”
Phineas hesitates, the silence stretching thin. “I know one,” he admits finally, his tone laden with both reluctance and intrigue.
Excitement surges in Adam’s chest, but he keeps his expression neutral. “And what would it take for you to share it?”
The former headmaster’s painted eyes gleam with calculation. “Knowledge of that caliber is not given lightly, boy. But there is something we all desire—a portrait.”
Adam blinks, momentarily thrown. “A portrait?”
“Yes,” Phineas says, his smirk returning. “A portrait of the four founders of Hogwarts together. It is said to exist within the castle, hidden away in the Room of Requirement.”
Adam’s mind races, his thoughts spiraling into possibilities. “The founders lived long before magical portraiture was commonplace and widely made,” he counters, though the idea intrigues him.
Phineas’s smirk widens. “Indeed. Yet I’ve found references to such a painting in obscure texts. If there is smoke, there is fire.”
The implications hang heavy in the air. If such a portrait exists, it could solve more than one mystery—providing insight into Merlin’s forbidden spells, the magic of the Room of Requirement itself and how its consciousness developed in later stages, and perhaps even uncovering other mysterious rooms hidden during the creation of Hogwarts that even he didn’t know about.
Adam feels the weight of the challenge. Even Phineas, with his sharp cunning and historical access, has failed to locate it. Finding the portrait will require ingenuity, determination, and a fair bit of luck. But the potential rewards are too great to ignore.
Adam nods slowly, his gaze steady. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Phineas leans back in his frame, a glint of satisfaction in his painted eyes. “Be careful, boy. The Room of Requirement guards its secrets jealously. Many have sought its treasures, and not all have returned unscathed.”
Before leaving Dumbledore’s office, Adam approaches Fawkes, who has just finished his treat. The phoenix looks up, his fiery feathers shimmering in the warm glow of the room.
“Here,” Adam says, pulling a small, wrapped bundle from his pocket. It’s a special snack he’s brought back from America, infused with rare herbs known to be a favorite of magical creatures like Fawkes.
The phoenix lets out a soft trill of approval, his sharp eyes gleaming with curiosity. As Adam offers the snack, Fawkes nips at his fingers gently, an affectionate gesture that makes Adam smile.
“Good boy,” Adam murmurs, running his fingers along the phoenix’s vibrant feathers. They’re warm to the touch, almost as if holding a gentle flame. For a moment, the weight of his thoughts lifts as he admires the majestic creature.
Fawkes lets out another trill, the sound echoing with an almost reassuring tone. Adam takes it as subtle encouragement, as if the phoenix senses the storm of questions swirling in his mind.
“Thanks, Fawkes,” Adam says softly, giving the bird one last stroke before turning to leave.
As he returns to his dormitory, the mystery of the founders’ portrait and Merlin’s forbidden spells occupies his thoughts. His mind races with questions, each one building on the other.
“How could such a portrait exist?” he whispers to himself, the doubt and curiosity intertwining in his thoughts. The founders predate magical portraiture, yet Phineas’s confidence hints at something extraordinary.
After dressing, Adam stares out the window, his resolve hardening. The only way to unravel the truth is to find the portrait. If it truly exists, it might hold answers to more than just the Room of Requirement—it could be the key to unlocking ancient, forgotten knowledge.
With that thought burning in his mind, Adam makes his way toward the Great Hall, preparing for the start of the day. Straightening his robes and gripping his wand, determination lights his every step. He knows he’ll need help and considers seeking it from the trio. Hermione already knows about the room, and letting Harry and Ron in on it soon wouldn’t disrupt the timeline too much.